I don't own the story Idea. I just simply put it into Hetalia form. If that made sense...?
Tug Tug Tug
Gilbert tossed and turned in his bed. It was late at night, or early in the morning, if that's what you call it, and it was freezing cold.
Because Gilbert, like the idiot he was, kicked off his blanket in the middle of the night.
Gilberts blanket was nearly off the bed except for a little sliver of sheets clinging to the edge of it.
Deciding he couldn't sleep without warmth, Glibert sat up and grabbed his blanket. Feeling that childhood fear; that if you didn't have something covering you up you're open to all kinds of monsters, Gilbert let out small laugh and gave a firm tug trying to pull up his blankets.
But no luck.
Gilbert gave his blanket another pull, trying to cease the 1000 horrible scenarios going through his head, and the growing anxiety.
Tug. Tug,Tug, Tug..
Finally! Gilbert gave a triumph smirk as he pulled the majority of his blanket over him, mentally kicking himself for thinking something bad was going to happen.
Gilbert closed his eyes and started to drift out.
That is until he felt a tug coming from that little sliver of cover still hanging off the bed.
Tug...Tug...Tug.
A/N: Keep going?